No Hope
by Midnight E Siren
Summary: The Apocalypse is here, and no one is safe. Minds are so very easily broken in loss of the ones they love, love can make you do crazy things. It can make you lie, cheat, steal, fly into a rage and attack another human being. Love can even bring you to kill. AU Halloween Challenge Multi-shot
1. Part 1

**Zombie Apocolypse Prompt**

By: Midnight E Siren

~Part 1~

The cabin was made of greying wood, it was old but solidly built with simple wooden furniture and handwoven rugs. Heavy locks were on any and all the doors, telling that this was a hunting cabin at some point, there had been a safe of weapons on the second floor but little ammo for them. It was mid afternoon, the sun was high and warm and the wind blew gently, rustling the trees and long grass. But this quiet little world was tarnished with unseen blood. Atem no longer felt anything when he added yet another body to his count, he couldn't trust any of them, they'd all try and kill them both. Maybe it was wrong, but Atem didn't care, as long as his light was safe, as long as he still lived on with him. As he dragged the body across the floorboards it left a bright red stain, he'd have to wash the floor again before it set into the wood. With a flick of his wrist he undid the locks on the basement door, removing the large wooden blockade settled across the door and pulling it open wide enough for him to slip through.

The body thumped loudly against the stairs and he heard the rattle of chains below in the dank basement, heard the quiet uneven breaths. When he reached the concrete floor he hefted the body up and tossed it a few feet into the corner, turning away when he heard the feral snarl and heading up the stairs away from his dirty secret. He closed and locked the door behind him, trying to block out the wet and crunching noises drifting up from below. Tried to block out the image of the sweet, pale face of his lover covered with blood, violet eyes lost and glazed as if they could no longer see. Sharp pains stabbed at the inside of his chest, whatever caused that pain had shattered long ago and could not be fixed, Atem steeled his nerves again.

He straightened up, slid the wooden plank across the door and strode across the room. As he went he found the shot gun in his hand, loaded it and carried it at his hip. It stayed with him as he took the metal bucket and filled it with water, took the bleach out from under the kitchen sink and dumped a few capfuls into the water with some soap. Quietly he picked up the bucket from the edge of the counter and set it down next to the bloodstains, pulling out the scrub brush and starting his work upon the bright red mark. Soon the water turned pink and the red stain was almost gone, just a bit more and it'd be clean. A call from outside made him stop moving, his tiredly slid up towards the window where he saw a young man and woman running up to the house.

They spotted him, and waved excitedly, the woman's face beaming along with the young man's as they hurried to the cabin. Atem sighed, picking up the shotgun and grabbing a chair from the kitchen table. He pulled it along the floor, spinning it to face the front door and removing the locks as well. Resting heavily into the chair Atem double checked that the shotgun was loaded and flicked off the safety, raising the barrel at the door and waited.

The door swung open, and smiles turned to horror as Atem squeezed the trigger tight, they never had a chance. Bodies fell, the man was still alive, he screamed in pain as Atem had only caught him in the chest. Not like the woman, most of her face was gone now, and slowly Atem stood. Screaming, the man tried to crawl away but Atem easily caught up to him and leveled the muzzle again, pulled the trigger, the shot rang out and then silence settled over the cabin again. He dragged the two off the porch and into the basement as he did the one before, hopefully there wouldn't be anymore. Hopefully, they would just leave them alone in peace but Atem knew there would be more, there had to be more or his light would die.

After the door was barred again Atem turned and sighed at the new mess he'd have to clean up, he grabbed the bucket and started outside on the porch. The red came up easily enough, he hadn't let these ones bleed as much as the others, knives were messy but it seemed that the his shotgun did the trick. When he'd acquired a glock he thought it would be better, but it required a precise aim, the shotgun was better for close quarters. When the stain was gone from the porch Atem slid back inside, working on the floorboards there and then dumping out the water. A long wail sent shivers down his spine, he eyes slid over to the barred door as he heard it again.

Slowly, like his limbs had a mind of their own, he strode over to the door resting his cheek against cool wood as the wails continued. It was so sad, like a wounded animal, like a lost pup calling out to its mother. Atem's bloodied fingers found the cool metal of the lock and paused there, eyes sliding closed as he sagged against the wood. He was tired, exhausted, the nightmares plagued him, and the shards of his heart stabbed at him constantly, there was no rest for the wicked. From the basement, the wail called to him again, but no matter how much he wanted he could not face his sins.

"Forgive me Aibou..."


	2. Part 2

**Zombie Apocalypse Drabble **

By: Midnight E Siren

~Part 2~

Weeks passed, more people fell into Atem's trap, and more bodies piled up. Blood stained the basement stairs and by then Atem didn't care to wash them anymore, it was a tiring chore so he only kept to keeping the foyer and front porch clean. People continued to be stupid enough to trust him, they were in the middle of a war and yet trust was thrown around so lightly. Hope was what drove these people to trusting him, hope that they'd found other survivors, hope that they would live to see the end of this nightmare. For over a week no one had come to the cabin, the cries from the basement had grown louder, during the day they were quieter nearly silent but the night was fraught with screams. Whenever Atem tried to sleep, it was during the day when the light could chase the shadows away and he could stand to close his eyes for longer than an hour.

Since he'd come to the cabin his sleeping habits had become strange, even though he slept Atem could hear everything around him. Deep sleep was something that eluded him now, the nightmares couldn't grasp at him with their cold fingers anymore. These short bouts of sleep were all that kept Atem from losing what little he had left of his mind, what few shards of sanity that still rested within his grasp. For a long while Atem had felt the pull of the shadows, the desire to simply tread into the darkness of the basement and remain there forever burned greater within him as the days went by. It was frightening, he was terrified to die yet living exhausted him, the very act of breathing seemed to require more effort than it was supposed to.

Atem slept in the previous owners' bed, there was only one in the upstairs, designed like a loft of sorts with the same kind of decorum as downstairs. Wooden furniture and woven rugs, a small dresser sat in the corner where Atem had found clothes to wear and a small broken makeup table. The mirror of the makeup table had been shattered long ago, but Atem could still catch glimpses of himself in the broken shards. To say the least he looked horrible, his hair was lank and dirty from lack of maintenance and his once bronzed skin had paled to a sickly ash. His eyes were sunken, dull, a dark crimson like old blood and his shoulders slumped perpetually as if his body could not hold its own weight.

This life was tiring, protecting his light took everything from him; all his strength, all his sanity, all his love. It hurt to fight for so long, to protect something so precious, but he could trust no one to do it for him. He was the only one that could protect his light, others would come, they would kill him and take Atem away. Sometimes he wondered what had happened to the others, Joey, Tristan, even Mai and Malik, Bakura, Tea was probably still with them, Serenity and Duke were still alive; he just knew it. Somehow he believed that they might understand why he'd drenched his hands in blood, protected his light to the very edge of his sanity. Maybe they would understand him, but he couldn't risk it, couldn't risk them killing his light.

He hated this place, it was so quiet, the silence used to be a comfort for him but the longer he stayed the more the silence seemed to press in on him. It amplified the cries in the night and made the screams echo so much farther, so much louder than normal, the silence itself was killing him. Exhaustion gripped him, hours ago he'd ventured to the upstairs, crawled into the bed and allowed sleep to claim him. Flashes of dreams flitted across his consciousness, but nothing was clear enough to grasp at thankfully. Atem wasn't sure if he could handle those dreams returning, deal with the gasping pleas of his light, feel the blood of his love drenching his hands.

Atem snapped awake suddenly, crimson eyes searching out for his shotgun and feeling slightly comforted by its cold iron weight slid quietly out of bed. Something had woken him, the sound of footsteps on the porch outside, they were loud as if the person wearing them didn't care to be heard. Dropping down behind the banister Atem crept down the stairs, keeping as low as he could. When he reached the ground floor he ducked under windows, and pushing aside the blinds peeked over the edge of the windowsill to see who had wandered into his trap. The porch was empty, Atem stood and glanced more around the edge of the window, nearly jumping out of his skin whenever someone started knocking on the door. He glanced down at his weapon, checked to make sure it was loaded and cocked it as quietly as he could before sliding over to the front door and moving to check the peephole.

The pounding stopped suddenly and the door flew inward, splintering the doorframe, causing Atem to raise his shotgun and fire wildly. They flew backwards, feet laying in the broken doorway as Atem surveyed the damage to the door. Doorframe completely shattered, Atem turned to begin gathering up the body and drag it downstairs before panic slipped through his veins like ice. His mind spun wildly, at his feet lay a young man not much older than him, face ruined by the round of buck shot. What worried him more was the full green and brown camouflage he was wearing, with a matching helmet and thick army boots. A large caliber rifle was strapped to the young man's back and Atem nearly fired again when static erupted from the man's shoulder.

/_Daniels? Come in Daniels. Over._/

Fear gripped him and his hands gripped the shotgun tighter, waiting for some sort of plan to come to mind. Something for him to do, some way to get out of this mess.

/_Daniels? Daniels, are you alright? Over._/ the voice called again, static ringing out in the silence. /_Daniels give me your status report _now_. Over._/

The voice was getting more upset, and Atem lowered the shotgun, grabbing the soldier's legs with his free arm and started dragging him out of the doorway. A trail of bright red blood stained the floorboards, he pulled harder, desperate to hide this man before others came to find him. Others would come, he had to hide this one, had to protect his light before the others came. Grunting, he yanked the man out of the front room and into the kitchen, closer and closer to the basement door. He whirled around, dropping the boot clad feet and fumbled with the locks, yanking away the board and flinging the door open. When he reached for the soldier again, his knee exploded with pain causing him to drop to the floor.

When he looked down, his knee was a mess of blood and bone, pain searing through his body as he tried to reach for the shotgun. A shot splintered the wood between his hand and the gun, his eyes searched out the source of the bullet, landing on a soldier with his gun leveled straight at Atem. It only took a few moments for the man to bark something into his walkie talkie, only minutes for the cabin to be flooded with more soldiers. Meanwhile, Atem was confined to a corner of the kitchen, corralled by two men with rifles after one of them had crudely wrapped his ruined knee. They tore apart the cabin, searched every nook and cranny looking for any other survivors but they would find none.

A soldier worried over Atem, checked his pulse, checked his pupils, asked him dozens and dozens of questions but he couldn't reply. All that was running through his mind was that he'd failed, he'd failed his light, failed to protect him from the evils of the world, failed as a lover, failed as a friend. After a while, the soldier deemed him to be in shock but for different reasons than what they really were. He could only drown in his self loathing, in his failure, and in his pain both emotional and physical. His eyes stayed glued to the floor, watching the evening sunset cross his boots and stretch along the floor, the dust that hung in the air and seemed to laugh at him.

The long drawn out wail from the basement made him tense, and he swore that his heart stopped. Around him, all the soldiers aimed their guns at the gaping basement door, everything was tense and silent for minutes. Outside the wind rattled the windows and the house creaked loudly before it all fell silent again.

/_Don't make a sound. Don't make a sound. Don't make a sound. Don't make a sound. Don't make a sound. Don't make a sound. Don't make a sou- _/ another shrieking wail erupted from the basement and Atem's heart gave a painful lurch in his chest.

It _hurt_. Hurt to hear that sad wail, hurt to hear his light call out to him and not be able to rush to his side, to hold him. The soldiers berated him, asked him if he'd been keeping someone captive, if he'd been hiding someone. When he didn't reply, they checked and cocked their guns, heading into the dark basement. Terror gripped Atem, his legs threw him into motion, ignoring the searing pain in his knee before he was seized by two of them. He struggled, kicked, and flailed desperately, they would kill his light, they would take him _away again_.

The soldiers were surprised by his outburst, one of them was worried for his knee but he couldn't care less about himself. "Don't you dare touch him!" he snarled, he looked feral he was sure but it didn't matter anymore.

No matter what Atem did, they would not be deterred, they descended carefully into the basement searching for the source of the wails. Nothing stopped them from venturing down the stairs, they quickly disappeared from sight and silence fell upon them all again. They waited for the tension to lift, waited for a sign, anything. First came the screams, a round of gunfire, panicked orders were given and the sound of safeties being clicked off filled the kitchen. A heartbeat of silence greeted them before a creak was heard, slowly making its way up the stairs closer and closer.

Atem's back hit the wall when the soldiers pushed him behind them, raising their own guns and pointing them at the figure that slowly emerged from the door. A mess of tri-colored hair greeted them, face-framing blond bangs were tinged with red and grey shirt drenched with blood. Bare feet were covered in red along with pale hands, sightless violet eyes flickered back and forth, searching. The slim frame teetered at the top step, a hand reaching out to steady itself before tilting his head upwards towards a nearby soldier. With a shout the soldier went down, the tri-colored head glued to the man's throat before ripping away, sending a splatter of blood across the floor.

Two more soldiers went down, red staining the floor and walls by then, bullet holes peppered the drywall and chairs had been scattered in the panic. A bloody mess was spread across the kitchen, looking much like a battlefield after a firefight. More red stained the light's jeans, arms drenched up to the elbow now as sharp teeth sank into waiting flesh spilling forth more and more blood. The remaining soldiers were in a panic, every time one of them called out to another the slim frame lunged. What few bullets were shot in the close quarters of the kitchen missed their mark, sinking into dead flesh without effect.

Atem's struggles grew greater until one of the soldiers had to pin him to the floor, hands wrenched up between his shoulder blades and cheek pushed into the floor. The carnage continued, still the soldiers tried to stop his light from attacking them, and still Atem tried to free himself. Finally, for only a moment the soldier that held him down was distracted, long enough for Atem to get a leg beneath himself and dismount the man from his back. His feet urged him forward, his right knee giving out before he half limped between the men that were spraying bullets everywhere. Violet eyes snapped to him, the slim form surged up onto unsteady legs and lunged for Atem. Survival instinct kicked in, he threw an arm up between them, shouting in pain when teeth sank down into the flesh and bloody hands gripped his arm and shirt.

"Aibou stop! _Stop_!" he shouted yanking at the dirty locks as their combined weight on Atem's ruined knee sent them both sprawling backwards.

Biting back the wail of agony, Atem dislodged the teeth in his arm and froze in fear as he watched those teeth lunge for his throat. Blood sprayed onto Atem's face, eyes wide as his grey skinned light collapsed by his side, the smell of decay nearly making him gag. He laid there as reality set in, everything he'd done, every night he'd spent awake listening to the cries of his light, every moment he'd stayed in that cabin alone. Finally, he found the strength to turn his head, his light's violet eyes were wide with shock, blood stained face gaunt and filled with fright. In moments Atem was up and shaking his light's shoulders, crying out to him, trying to rouse a sound from him, trying to do anything to wake him.

"Aibou? Aibou, say something please! _Aibou_! _Yugi_!" he called desperately, fingers gripping the long sleeve shirt tightly. "Aibou, please open your eyes! _AIBOU_!"

The soldiers pulled him off his light's body, passing him from person to person until he was seated in a van. Doctors fussed over him, pushed needles into his veins, assured him with lies. His friends were waiting, he was going to be just fine, he was a survivor, you're safe now, _you're one of the lucky ones_. He had no will to do anything else but comply, they marched him around, laid him down, sat him up, poked here and there and poured solutions into his wounds. None of their actions were felt, his whole body had gone numb. He'd woken from his bloodstained nightmare, was brought back into the world but now he lived an equally dark dream filled with his regrets.


End file.
